


death is nothing at all (i have only slipped over to the next room)

by Rowan Lakes (syrenhug)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tennis, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Original Character(s), Other, POV Second Person, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrenhug/pseuds/Rowan%20Lakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro is in the middle, snuggling two pillows (an occurrence that happens so often you’ve started to just accept pillow - less nights) to his side. Mika is curled behind him. His breaths are deep and a little whistle - y. </p><p>You stare at closed curtains, quilts covering your legs, the home that you’ve made of them, and go back to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	death is nothing at all (i have only slipped over to the next room)

**Author's Note:**

> Chronic lymphoid leukemia isn’t often seen in younger people, especially people of color, but I’m sure it has happened. It's usually slow to be detected so he went about six years not knowing he had it. I think Shiro’s 22 here? Mika's 24 and Art is 20. 
> 
> This whole thing stemmed from the song Non Believe by La Rocca so. Listen to that if you want to cry?
> 
> This was an original fic that I turned into a fic then I decided I would re - do again so basically we’re back where we started, have no fun.

"I'm going to die."

You blink, dropping into the couch. "What?"

Shiro sighs, shifting on his feet. He looks uncharacteristically small, but there's something defiant in his eyes. "You heard me. I'm going to die. Do I need to say it again? Maybe a little slower with pictures?"

"Fuck you." It's automatic. There has never been a time when you both didn't act like you hated each other. "Are you joking? Because this a really sick joke."

 _Sick_. You wince. He notices.

"No. It's not."

He stands there for a minute. Just stares at you, and then he turns around and goes to make dinner.

* * *

Both of you, after years of fucked up families and, by extension, fucked up lives, know how to pretend. He makes the same pointed comments. Plays tennis every Friday with any old teammate who's available.

They shoot arrows at each other in the guise of words. _What are you doing? What do you have,_ you want to ask him. But he changes the direction of your conversations when it gets too quiet and doesn't let you care. ****  
** **

* * *

Lin and you haven't talked for months but he decides to call you in the middle of smoking pot in the living room. You know what they say about timing.

"I've missed you." He exhales, and you want to believe him, you really do. But he said the same thing the last time and the time before that and you're not the only one tired of bullshit. So you cough in and hang up.

"I miss you too." You say to the empty room.

Maybe one day they'd both mean it. ****  
** **

* * *

The house is messy and he decides to invite everyone over for a party.

Everyone is there except Lin, which you try not to read into it. Kaede is arguing with Adrian over tennis and Nobu is watching them with a fascinated smile. Ryuu and Goro are flirting in the corner. Everyone else has decided to throw themselves in a massive game of cards.

They all look happy. Young.

"Art." Mika smiles at you. Out of all the people you'll ever meet in your life, your former captain will always be the one you feel most safe with. It's like he's seen all the awful shit you've done and already forgiven you for it.

"You seen Shi?"

He nods. "I think he went to his room."

You incline your head (because you've never known how to treat sort of divine gods like him) and go to find your best friend.

Shiro is leaning against the dresser. He's staring at something, but you can't tell what. "I don't think I can do this."

"I think you can do anything." You tell him.

He exhales, brushing a kiss on your cheek as he passes. “That Lin kid has absolutely no idea.”

You can tell him jumping back into a room filled with so many happy people doesn't sit well, but he manages to act like he always does - brash, honest, _present_. Mika keeps a grip on his arm and doesn't let go.

You have a good time. ****  
** **

* * *

There are some days were he looks so exhausted that you push him back into bed. You try to keep him company, but neither of you have ever had it easy with words.

You climb on the bed and tackle him, pressing fingers in his side. He laughs. You wonder if he wants you to pretend like you don't notice that he's stopped eating more than one or two meals a day.

"Tell me." You whisper and he turns his head away. "Tell me what's wrong."

He doesn't open his mouth, but he writes it down and all you can see for the rest of the day is _I have leukemia_. ****  
** **

* * *

You like to run. Because maybe if you go fast enough nothing will catch up with you. No one will have to tell you to stop.

That's the thing, though, there's always something that's going to slow you down. You're not invincible. Eventually, your heart gets stuck in your throat and your feet ache and it's over. Done.

The road doesn't end. But you do. ****  
** **

* * *

"Does it hurt?" You ask. It's the first time he's tried to smoke with you and he keeps making these faces. You want to reach over and -

He rests his head against your shoulder. "Sometimes. Mostly, I'm just really tired."

"Why don't you get treatment?"

"Why don't you fuck off?" But it's not barbed. It's a picket fence with white carvings. You can feel the smile against your neck. "Art?"

"Hmm."

"That better be your phone."

And you both laugh for what feels like hours. ****  
** **

* * *

"I want your permission."

You immediately start coughing. "I'm not his keeper."

Mika brushes his hair behind one ear. His hands are delicate, the tips of nails blue from the cold. You want to pull him inside and make him tea. "I know. But you are someone very important to him."

Warmth grows in the garden of your chest. You bite your lips hard enough to bleed. "Don't hurt him."

"I won't."

"Let him lie to you. Let him pretend. But don't bullshit him. He doesn't deserve it."

"But you do?" Mika tilts his head, eyes bright and curious. ****  
** **

"No," You shift in the doorway. "But I can take it." ****  
** **

Before he leaves he kisses you. It takes you off guard, but it's nice. Like a reassurance.

He pulls away. You can't remember what you didn't see in him. ****  
** **

* * *

 Four months go by. Shiro fights infections like a warrior and snacks on gross looking vegetables. It's almost easy to forget.

* * *

 He kisses you on a Wednesday after you wrap him up with your comforter because the heat is off and you don't want him to get cold (or sick, or more sick or dead or more dead or - ).

"What about Mika?" You murmur into his lips. He snorts.

"He doesn't care."

His hands are on your neck, then, tugging at your hair and he's breathing so hard, too much and you want to taste him forever, but forever is only a year and you have to take the time you have left. You probably make a lot of noise because he kisses you more and more as you fuck him. There's nothing perfect about it. Somehow, it's just enough.

Shiro’s skin warms beneath your fingers and he gasps, right before he kisses you again, "Lie to me. Just this once."

  _I love you_ , you say as you come, and you wish you could tell him that it isn't a lie.

* * *

He won't look you in the eye.

You can't sleep.

* * *

 Lin leaves a voicemail this time.

"Hey. Thanks for being such a douche bag last time and hanging up. But I am really sorry. About what happened. Just - give me a call, alright?"

You go to see him. He has this amazing ability to make you laugh even when it all feels hopeless. His kisses still taste like the watermelon gum he chews and his house feels like a bomb shelter; somewhere to hide before the world goes to flames.

"I don't love you anymore." You admit. You’re hovering by the door trying to find a reason to stay or go or both. 

Lin doesn't look surprised. Just kisses the corner of your mouth before you leave. "I never asked you to."

* * *

Shiro catches you watching him while he’s getting ready for bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't understand why you're letting yourself die. I don't get it. You have all these people who fucking love you to death, Shiro, and you're just giving it up. That's not you."

For awhile you don't think he's going to answer. But he pats the bed and you get under the covers with him.

"I hate analogies. Their cheesy as hell. But, this is what I've learned. Life is like tennis - "

You snort, shifting your head to his lap.

"Shut up. It is. Some people are really good at it. Some not so good. But, you can't play every match. Sometimes you have to sit it out. Give it up. Even if that's what everyone else wants. Even if there's a chance you'll win. Sometimes you have to be selfish."

"You've played with broken bones."

He strokes your hair. "Yeah."

"You're good at tennis."

"Yeah." He whispers into your ear. "But I'm also tired. Everyday I get up I realize that I don't want to."

 It has to be the way he pulls it out. The way his sadness sounds. But you start crying. He holds you with strong, shaky fingers until morning.

* * *

 It still surprises you sometimes that nobody has figured it out. You don't want to call it selfish or self - absorbed. Because people have their own lives and you are all still at the age of thinking you are at the center.

But, at the very least, he deserves the recognition.

* * *

Mika takes you and Shiro out to dinner and let's you know that he wants to be with both of you. You blank out for twenty minutes straight.

Finally, Shiro rolls his eyes, tugging all three pairs of hands together on the table. "Don't be weird."

"Did you know about this?"

He smirks around his straw. "I did ask if you needed me to say it slower with pictures.."

* * *

They all go to a church service. You play Non Believer by La Rocca on the ride home. Mika fumbles over some of the words but mostly succeeds at keeping the beat. Shiro laughs at them, but looks out the window and goes quiet when the song ends.

* * *

One morning you wake up way before they do.

Shiro is in the middle, snuggling two pillows (an occurrence that happens so often you’ve started to just accept pillow - less nights) to his side. Mika is curled behind him. His breaths are deep and a little whistle - y.

You stare at closed curtains, quilts covering your legs, the home that you’ve made of them, and go back to sleep.

* * *

 Shiro’s liver starts swelling. Now all three of you can’t sleep.

* * *

 "Lie to me." He asks, smiling. Mika kisses him on the lips with a loud, wet noise. It makes you laugh.

You feel like you used to when you’d go over to Lin’s house for sleepovers and you’d stay up all night, laughing - punch drunk, dizzy on being so loved and in love.

"I hate you."

Shiro flushes; pleased and adorable with his morning hazel eyes. "I hate you too."

* * *

 He dies on a Friday while you and Mika are out getting food.

The blanket is snug around his body and his eyes are closed. He looks peaceful. You don't really believe he's dead until they take him away and Mika starts crying.

* * *

 It's rains the day of the funeral. Kaede reads a poem and, for once, everyone is still. Shocked into silence. The grip on your hand never loosens.

Everybody wants to talk to you, but you can't figure out how to say the words. _I haven't cried yet. You never made me breakfast that morning and I don't remember what you smell like right now and you never hugged me, but I don't care because that wasn't the kind of relationship we had. I loved you and you left, you loved us and you're gone._

Eventually they all leave and only you and Mika are left. You shake your head. "What do we do now?"

He shifts the umbrella. But his eyes never leave the grave. "I guess we keep going."

* * *

The truth is, the world doesn't stop. It keeps going. And you have to learn how to start going again with it.

You and Mika create traditions out of what you were left. You light incense and play Non Believer every Sunday and wear his old clothes until you decide to give them away.

Because you don't know if that’s what Shiro would want, but it's what he did. And he chose to do it with you.

"I never told him I loved him." You confess one night. Mika is making dinner out of four slices of bread and chicken nuggets. If Shiro was there he would have rolled his eyes and called them _underachievers_.

You miss him. It’s the simplest part of it all.

"But he knew." Mika says, handing you half of the chicken nugget sandwich, and you laugh.   **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> http://syrenhug.tumblr.com/


End file.
